


Almost Lover

by Jaybirdart



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst without a happy ending, Atsumu I love you but I need to hurt you, Breakup, Canon Compliant, Explicit Language, Heavy Angst, M/M, Make Atsumu cry 2021, Non-Linear Narrative, Timeskip, idk why i did this to myself, mention of oikawa etc, mentions of msby - Freeform, mostly canon compliant I'd say, only not canon compliant because Sakuatsu forever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29822244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaybirdart/pseuds/Jaybirdart
Summary: This is a breakup fic.There is no happy ending.Atsumu reflects on his decade-long relationship that had fallen apart.Based on the song "Almost Lover" by A Fine Frenzy https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I_S_TbD1XFM
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35





	Almost Lover

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic and I chose violence. 

**January 1, 2022**

He wasn’t quite sure how he got here, sitting on the edge of the river.

Well, that isn’t exactly true. If he were being honest with himself, Atsumu could see clearly how he came to be here, loosely clutching photographs in his hands while staring at the water with unseeing eyes, eyes that were still red from tears. The fights, the jabs, the _“fuck you_ ”s that had been said over the years had of course stung and would continue to swirl in his head; but worst of all, however, had been the growing silence, particularly the silence of their final moments.

All of those words had been carefully placed breadcrumbs that led to their destruction.

_His_ destruction.

If only he had been paying attention, he might have seen the signs, might have been able to salvage something, _anything._

But it was too late for that now. Too late to do anything at all, other than stare into the water, memories in hand. Too late to do anything other than remember how, somehow, over the years, months, weeks, and days, he had become nothing - just another almost lover.

_Your fingertips across my skin,_

_the palm trees swaying in the wind…images_

**December 7, 2012**

Atsumu found himself grousing once again as he made the preparations to leave Hyogo to travel for the All-Japan Youth Training camp. It was no surprise he had been picked to attend the elite camp - he was the better twin, after all - but _why_ didn’t Samu seem the least bit frustrated at this fact? Couldn’t he at least act pissed off?

Beyond the fact that it was going to be the first time the twins didn’t do something together, Atsumu was irritated at his own irritation - _Just cause Samu decided to get lazy on me doesn’t mean I shouldn’t go on ahead_ he thinks as he angrily throws clothes into a duffel. _I am the better player after all. He’ll just need to catch up._

He doesn’t hear Osamu approach the doorway to their shared room as he continues carelessly throwing the few belongings he will need into his bag. Doesn’t notice him at all until he speaks, causing Atsumu to jump.

“You know, Tsumu, you could actually try to _enjoy_ yourself at the camp. Maybe actually make a friend.” And with a smirk, Osamu continues “Or maybe find yourself a boyfriend.”

Atsumu just grumbles “fuck off” and throws a pillow in his general direction, but inwardly he wonders. Just maybe, his twin is right.

Once he arrived, it was easy enough for Atsumu to find his place at the youth camp. Even amongst the best of the best, he was one of the better players - and the others knew it. He spent his days going through the rigorous training, finding some mirth in heckling young Kageyama Tobio, but there was one individual at the camp that seemed unruffled through it all: Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Starting from the first day when all the trainees were making their arrivals, Atsumu’s attention had been immediately drawn to Sakusa. One of the top three aces in Japan already, only as a second year, he was a mystery that had yet to be solved by Volleyball Monthly.Or, apparently, by anyone else.

It was as if gravity itself demanded Atsumu have a new center, and he found himself gravitating towards the surly wing spiker before he could think better of it.

At first, his cheery “Nice to meet ya, Omi-kun” was rebuffed by a curt “Don’t call me that,” but Atsumu was determined. Or persistent, depending on whose point of view from which you were looking. But as time went on, during and in between training and meals, Atsumu could see the cracks that his _charming_ personality were having on Sakusa. He had practically become a thorn in Sakusa’s side, earning himself half-hearted scowls each time he plopped down next to the spiker to stretch, or reaching across the table to help himself to one of Sakusa’s onigiri.

By this point in life, Atsumu knew people didn’t gravitate towards _him,_ but he sure as hell had learned how to insert himself into various social circles for at least some semblance of community, even if it was just a farce. So the shock on his face was almost comical when he saw _Omi-kun_ (the nickname stuck, much to Atsumu’s delight and Sakusa’s chagrin) sitting underneath one of the trees outside of the complex, and plopped down next to him.

And he _swore_ he saw a slight _,_ secretive smile from the Tokyo native.

Slack jawed and for once lost of words, Atsumu stared at that whisper of a smile, and a faint blush began to grow as Sakusa, so tentative with contact, lightly ghosted his fingertips over the top of Atsumu’s hand. 

He looked at him in a stupor for another moment, before offering a tentative, genuine smile of his own.

Maybe Samu was right about this whole _making friends_ business. Maybe, somehow, he would come away from this camp with not just a friend, but something more.

Smiling to himself, dumbfounded in thinking of how lucky he was that _Sakusa Kiyoomi_ was sitting here next to _him_ with his hand sitting lightly on top of his, Atsumu gazed up at the near-barren tree they were under.Nearly all the leaves had been ripped away from the branches from the bitter wind, but two stubbornly remained.

_No matter what happens,_ Atsumu thought to himself, _we can be like these leaves, holding on to hope that spring will come. That we can make it through anything, as long as we are together._

By sunrise, everyone at the training camp had packed their belongings and began their trips home. Atsumu shared a quiet, private smile with Kiyoomi, holding a small Polaroid picture of their tree in his hand, a promise and a “ _see you soon.”_

By sunrise, the last two leaves had succumbed to the forces of winter and drifted apart.

He should have known he was just a leaf.

_You sang me Spanish lullabies,_

_the sweetest sadness in your eyes…clever trick_

**October 15, 2015**

Atsumu groaned as he lay in bed, sore muscles protesting any movement he did as he fidgeted, simultaneously trying to get comfortable and fighting to stay awake. It was nearly midnight now; Omi was late. Maybe practice had run later than usual? Maybe he had gotten lost in an unfamiliar part of Madrid. Maybe he had been kidnapped! Or maybe…he was with someone else?

_Stop._

Atsumu ground his fists into his eyes as he fought the spiral he could feel coming. _Stop. It’s not late in Spain; it’s only 4 PM. He will call any minute. He probably forgot to pick up more sanitizer at the store. Or maybe he is late waking from the afternoon “siesta” the locals are so fond of there._ He breathed in and out, willing himself to calm. By the end of it, he smiled slightly, imagining his boyfriend sleeping the afternoon away. _That’s it. He’s probably just asleep. I shouldn’t wake him._

Sleep beckoned to him, but Atsumu refused to give in. Kiyoomi had been in Madrid for a few months now as part of a foreign exchange program his university participated in, and it had been an…adjustment, to say the least. Of course Atsumu had wanted Omi to take advantage of the university life, study abroad like his parents wished, even if Kiyoomi had said before leaving that he would come back and join the V League just as they had planned. Atsumu just hadn’t anticipated the distance to be such a challenge. Or an opponent. Apparently, phone service in Spain wasn’t great because it was sometimes hard to get his calls to go through. And they always had to call when it was late in Japan, and Atsumu was exhausted after a day’s worth of training, and now that the V League season had officially started, he was even more exhausted. Sometimes he wished that Omi would try to sneak a call in earlier, or just send him a text, but Atsumu knew he was busy. They both were; it’s just how things are, as young professional athletes.

Once Omi was back in Japan, things would go back to how they always had been and they would be in bliss once again. Just a few more weeks.

_Just a few more minutes_. He knew Coach Foster would give him hell tomorrow if he arrived at practice tired, and he’d get a lecture from an exasperated Meian about the importance of full bodily health (seriously, it’s not like the man is _that_ much older than him), but a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt to wait up.

Just in case.

Atsumu was just about to finally doze off when his phone lit up, and he scrambled upright to answer the video call.

His face immediately broke into a wide grin, sleepiness forgotten for the moment.

“Omi!” He exclaimed, delight written on his face looking towards the answering gentle smile on the other side of the world.

“Hey Tsumu, sorry I’m late. Just got held up with some stuff.” Kiyoomi said. He was practically glowing in the later afternoon sunlight, at an outdoor cafe enjoying a coffee.

“Wish that stuff were me,” Atsumu replied with a wink, earning an exasperated huff in return.

“I know, I know. We’ll have plenty of time for that soon. I leave this weekend to come back to Japan, or did you forget?”

“Of course I didn’t! I’ve only been counting the days, then you’ll be home, I’ll finish up this season, you’ll get your degree and the MVP title I just _know_ you’re going to get, and join me with the Jackals just like we planned!” Atsumu rambled, excitedly.

Kiyoomi stayed silent for a beat, and Atsumu swore he saw a shadow of sadness in in his partner’s dark eyes. “Omi?” He questioned. _Isn’t he as happy to be coming home as I am?_

“It’s nothing Tsumu.I’m just going to miss Spain is all, it’s beautiful here.” Kiyoomi replied.

Atsumu could see the shutters to Kiyoomi’s mind visibly close behind his dark eyes, and didn’t press further. He knew Omi had loved Madrid more than either had anticipated; maybe they could plan a vacation there someday. He said as much, and Kiyoomi just softly smiled and began playing a new song he had heard on the radio, lips ghosting along to the lyrics.Atsumu’s eyes began to drift shut again as his body finally succumbed to sleep.

Atsumu dreamed that night of walking through Madrid, hand in hand, rings glittering in the sunshine.

Too bad it was just a dream.

_Well I’d never want to see you unhappy._

_I thought you’d want the same for me._

**January 1, 2022**

He will always remember that first fight they had. It seemed so long ago now, but years later the words they said still stung. Kiyoomi probably didn’t even remember the words that were hurled like spears at each other, each one piercing Atsumu’s heart. He thought he had grown from it, _they_ had grown from it, but some wounds fester and never heal.

A small part of Atsumu suspected even then that his heart wouldn’t survive this, but he had always been selfish.

**April 4, 2013**

“Atsumu, you’re being selfish. And acting childish.”

Atsumu bristled at the tinny words emitting from his phone, anger having already reached a boiling point hours ago after his latest brawl with Osamu. How could Omi be so calm, all the time? When his life, all he had ever known, was _literally_ falling apart?

He could practically picture his boyfriend sitting at his desk with his perfect posture, his perfect calm demeanor, in his perfect house.For some reason that he didn’t want to delve into too deeply, Atsumu wanted to throw something. He settled for kicking a rock at the curb as he stomped through the streets in his quaint neighborhood.

“Did you even hear me? Osamu is _quitting._ He’s giving up on volleyball just to open up a fucking _restaurant!_ He’s giving up on _me_!” Atsumu’s voice broke as it neared a shout, and he only remembered just in time that it was late and he should keep it down to not disturb the neighbors. But he was pissed at his piece of shit twin. And pissed that his so called _boyfriend_ didn’t seem to see the problem with the Miya Twins being separated from the sport.

He could hear Sakusa shift as he stood up, the only indicator that his _perfect patience_ was beginning to thin. He could practically see the knot forming between his eyebrows, next to the moles he loved to kiss, the downturned corners of his lips as he frowned.

“I have listened. And you’re being ridiculous. Osamu is his own person, just as you are your own, and he has his own interests. It’s not up to you what his passions are, if he enjoys cooking more. Stop trying to make everything about you.”

Atsumu stumbled over a rock as the words pierced through him. _Stop trying to make everything about you._ It hurt. But Kiyoomi was right; he was making this about him and hadn’t even considered what his own brother wanted out of life, that it may not be volleyball after all this time.

But he couldn’t give this up yet -surely he could still convince Osamu to go pro with him.

“Omi, it just isn’t right! We were supposed to do this together, the Miya Twins running the V League together. And then once you finish university, the three of us would dominate the League as setter, wing spiker, and opposite.” Atsumu paused as his anger and betrayal continued to bubble back up, until it erupted, anger narrowly avoiding tears. “Osamu is just being a piece of shit like he always is, and the worst part is he’ll get away with it too! _He’s_ the better twin, and everyone knows it. Everyone likes him better, will cheer for him and his _stupid_ restaurant louder.”

A quick breath in, before he continued, “And we had _plans!_ That bastard and I always talked about going pro since we were little, that we would be playing volleyball together forever. But I should have known that he’d eventually leave me too, just like everyone does. He’s giving up on me too.”

Atsumu became quiet then, tears pricking in his eyes with sudden silence. And a little voice whispered to him unbidden: _You’re right. Osamu did give up on you. And Omi will eventually leave you, too._

Kiyoomi was silent on the other end of the line. Atsumu barely breathed, trying to hold back tears, as he waited for him to say something, _anything._

After what seemed like years, Kiyoomi finally responded.

With a frustrated sigh, he snapped “Fine, Atsumu. You still aren’t listening, so here is what you want to hear: yes, Osamu gave up on you. He couldn’t resign himself to being your shadow for the rest of his life, so he’s creating his own path. Alone. So get used to it now, and become your own person for once.”

It was like a slap in the face.

_Become your own person for once._

Atsumu pressed End Call with a shaky hand, and slumped on the curb, Kiyoomi’s words reverberating in his skull.

_Osamu gave up on you. Get used to it now. Become your own person for once._

He put his hands to his face, and cried.

**April 5, 2013**

Of course they made up the next day, “sorry”s and “I love you”s and “I was an ass” murmured through their cellphones.

But the words received had lingered, and haunted him. Even as he offered Osamu a new set of spices as a peace offering, even as he and Kiyoomi made plans to meet up that summer, he could still hear those words:

_He gave up on you._

_Become your own person for once._

_Goodbye, my almost lover. Goodbye, my hopeless dream._

_I’m trying not to think about you, can’t you just let me be…_

**January 1, 2022**

Atsumu let another photograph slip from his fingers into the water. That one had been of him, Sakusa, and Samu at the grand opening of Onigiri Miya.Samu looked thrilled to be cutting the ribbon on his new, shiny store, Atsumu’s eyes shone with pride for his brother, having come to accept his plans for the future.Sakusa was looking down at Atsumu, who in the moment had not noticed the ghost of a smile evidenced on Sakusa’s masked face by the barely there crinkle around his eyes.

Present-day Atsumu choked as he fought the burning of tears wishing to be shed for the umpteenth time that night.

How did they go from that, happy in the moment and content with each others’ dreams to where they were now?

_So long, my luckless romance. My back is turned on you._

_Shoulda known you’d bring me heartache, almost lovers always do._

He let more pictures drift down the river, being swallowed up by nature and destroyed as so many things had been. He ignored the flashing of his phone, the worried texts and phone calls asking where he was, was he ok, what did he need?

He didn’t really know where he was. No, he was not ok. There were a million things he wanted, but the one thing he needed had walked out of his life forever.

Nothing mattered now. It was all over, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

_We walked along a crowded street,_

_you took my hand and danced with me…images._

**November 17, 2018**

Atsumu and Kiyoomi walked hand in hand through the streets of Sendai, enjoying the high of winning against the Adlers.

It was a spectacular game, even for the Jackals.Hinata blew everyone out of the water in his debut game, toying with Tobio until the very end. Bokuto scoring the match-winning point with the placement of his spike right outside the blockers’ wall. Omi, the rookie favorite, earned himself the first service ace of the game. And Atsumu…Atsumu was on cloud nine.

They had just finished getting celebratory drinks with the team, before excusing themselves to start the meander back to their rented hotel. Being a Saturday night, Sendai was alive with activity. Bokuto and Akaashi had just excused themselves to explore the bars in the area when Atsumu and Kiyoomi shared a quiet look born from years together, and left shortly after. Atsumu couldn’t keep the smile off his face, so open and filled with love as he swung their hands back in forth, reminiscing on their best plays of the game that had occurred mere hours beforehand.

He was…happy. So, so, deeply happy to be here, traversing the streets of Sendai with no true destination in mind.Right now, Atsumu had everything he needed: volleyball, a great team, and an even better boyfriend. Right now, things were perfect.

The two shared idle chitchat as they walked, slowly making their way in the general direction of their home for the night, Atsumu laughing and beaming, Omi indulging in quiet chuckles and slight smiles, love shared in their eyes. They passed by one club blaring with music, and one pleading look from Tsumu was all it took for Kiyoomi’s eyes to soften further, smile lighting up both of their faces as they made their way into the throng of dancing bodies.Atsumu knew that normally, Omi would have refused. There were too many bodies, too much sweat, and _far_ too much noise. But for this one night, Omi indulged him and allowed himself to be led into the throng of people, from which they would not emerge until the small hours of the morning. The only memories they would retain would be feelings of happiness and blurry selfies - but it was more than enough for Atsumu.

_And when you left you kissed my lips,_

_you told me you would never, never forget these images._

It was 3am when Kiyoomi and Atsumu finally stumbled out of the club, hair a mess and bodies shining with sweat. Omi was smiling with reckless abandon, liquor flowing through his veins, and Atsumu thought to himself that he had never seen anything more beautiful.Giggling - _giggling -_ Kiyoomi swept him into a kiss underneath one of the sole lamps left flickering on the street. It was if the world closed an eye for the two of them, for just a moment. It was if the whole world clutched the words Omi slurred into the shell of Atsumu’s ear to its heart, sheltering them from prying eyes: “I love you, and I’ll never forget this night. I’ll never forget us…”

Years later, of course, Atsumu wished he could forget. But back then, all he could think was that he was lucky. He was _so_ _damn_ _lucky_.

_Well, I’d never want to see you unhappy._

_I thought you’d want the same for me._

**August 11, 2021**

Atsumu and Kiyoomi walked through the crowded streets of the Olympic Village with short, angry steps. Glancing to the side, Atsumu could see the vein ticking on Kiyoomi’s head, the knot that had already formed between his shoulder blades - _shit_ he was pissed.

Of course, Atsumu was frustrated as well; he was subbed in early for Kageyama when an uncharacteristically short serve toss caused him to land badly and needed to sit out or else risk further injury.

Atsumu _was_ one of the two best setters in the nation, he was warmed up, and he was ready to win. And they _had_ tried their best, but in the end the Japan National Team was brought to its knees before Argentina in a solid 3-1 defeat.Although their defense was as solid as ever, today their attacks just hadn’t connected, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed and was exploited by the opposing setter.

And so, Omi was pissed.

Atsumu glanced at Kiyoomi again as the pair strode through the crowd, ignoring the music and celebrations and fun that the other athletes were having. His hand twitched unbidden towards the other’s, whose hands were firmly buried in pockets. Atsumu wanted to hold his hand so badly, but, well, things had been tense lately with the intensive training. And judging by that tick in his brow, touching Omi would _not_ be the right decision right now.

Stuffing his reluctant hand into his own pocket, the two continued walking for another few moments before Kiyoomi suddenly halted, huffing a short, angry breath through his nose. Atsumu could see him trying (and failing) to master himself, doing the breathing exercises he had become so fond of as of late.

Tentatively, Atsumu reached his hand back toward Kiyoomi’s and quietly asked “Omi?”

It was a question of _what’s wrong,_ _how can I help_ , and _I’m sorry we lost_ all at the same time.

To his credit, Kiyoomi didn’t pull his hand away, although he didn’t grip Atsumu’s in return, either. Instead, the first thing he said since the final whistle blew was “what the _fuck_ was that last setter dump supposed to be?”

It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped on his head. Bristling, Atsumu said “ _Excuse_ me?”

Kiyoomi turned his head to look at him now.With lethal calm tinged with venom, he repeated: “I _said_ , what the _fuck_ was that last setter dump supposed to be? The one where is was so damn _obvious_ what you were about to do, you looked like a fucking fourteen year old?”

Atsumu could feel heat rising in his face, hands balling into fists at his side as he spat back, volume rising “That _fucking_ setter dump was my last attempt to save our sorry asses from getting _completely_ handed to us! Or did you not notice the score? Did you forget the _five consecutive service aces_ Oikawa got off you?”

Sakusa whipped around, facing Atsumu fully now as he said with hardly concealed anger, “I fucking _told_ you and Iwaizumi-san that my wrists were bothering me today.”

Atsumu rolled his eyes, throwing his hands in the air as he groaned “Oh my _god_ , Omi, what the hell do your wrists even have to do with serve receive? Is that really your excuse? Why then did every single spike that last set go _directly to the libero?_ Was it your damn _pinky toe_ that caused us to lose?”

“Fuck you, Miya. You know that it’s a medical condition. I _would_ have been able to hit better if _someone_ had given me better tosses. But instead, _someone_ , let himself get baited into quick set after quick set, leaving _his_ wing spikers with no options. At least I didn’t let myself get played by the opposing setter like a damn violin!”

Both of their voices had begun to rise, attracting a few worried glances from those passing by in the revelry.

Atsumu’s pride was still broiling, fighting against the words that Kiyoomi was hurling at him as he shouted back “At least I’ve learned to own up to my mistakes, and won’t keep on acting like a pretentious asshole when I know I fucked up! At least I don’t make excuses about my performance over some random body part!”

Sakusa closed the gap between them in one short step. There was true rage in his eyes as he shouted, “Well at least I’m not the second-rate setter that fucked up his _one_ chance in the Olympics! At least I’m not the one who is _never_ _anyone’s first choice_ , and fucks up the one chance he gets _just like he fucks everything up.”_

Atsumu grew cold, body going numb at the words that were slicing invisible cuts over his heart.

Chest heaving, Atsumu stared at Sakusa open-mouthed.

_Say something. Tell me you didn’t mean that. Please_.

Sakusa placed his hands back in his pockets. He turned around, and only said “I’m staying in Wakatoshi’s room tonight.”

Atsumu stood in the middle of the crowded venue for what could have been hours before someone found him, Kiyoomi’s words reverberating in his skull.

_You’re never anyone’s first choice._

_Goodbye, my almost lover. Goodbye, my hopeless dream._

_I’m trying not to think about you, can’t you just let me be…_

**August 12, 2021**

Sakusa left Tokyo the next day.

A chasm had opened up in Atsumu’s heart, and he wasn’t sure if it was one that could be repaired.

Their teammates knew _something_ had happened between them, but the only explanation they had received was an announcement of an unconvincing “family emergency” Sakusa had, and in any case, that he didn’t see the point of staying in the Olympic village when they had been so easily knocked out. Atsumu visibly winced, but Sakusa was already gone out the doors.

_You just fuck everything up._

_So long, my luckless romance. My back is turned on you._

_Shoulda known you’d bring me heartache - almost lovers always do._

**August 15, 2021**

Atsumu stared at his phone.

Sakusa had never been good with communication, but this was a new low, even for him.

So Atsumu continued to stare at his phone, willing three dots to appear and offer an explanation. But no further words came.

All that was written: “I need a break.”

_I cannot go to the ocean, I cannot drive the streets at night._

_I cannot wake up in the morning without you on my mind._

**January 1, 2022**

Atsumu scrubbed furiously at his eyes, willing the tears that had welled to be absorbed back into his body. In his aggressive wiping, he heard the rip of a picture tearing. It was enough to pause him in his fervor, staring at the torn edge - it was a picture of him and Kiyoomi - _Sakusa -_ on the beach in Rio. Sakusa looked like a model, even as he was hunched over glaring at the wind, at the sun. Atsumu hated the smile that had been captured on his own face, still so full of love. Of hope.

He ripped the picture in two and tossed it into the river.

The next was a candid picture of Sakusa dozing on their couch, face peaceful for once, captured mid-snore. Atsumu wanted to strangle his heart for the painful clench it gave him.

He tore that picture along with the one below.

With a strangled sob, Atsumu began tearing the remaining pictures to pieces with new vigor, eyes so blurred with tears he could no longer see their contents.

He didn’t even notice as he shredded the printed selfie of the rings he had purchased months prior, tossing the pieces of paper along with his heart into the water.

_So you’re gone and I’m haunted and I’ll bet you are just fine._

_Did I make it that easy to walk right in and out of my life?_

**December 31, 2021**

Atsumu woke up to the sound of the lock turning and the familiar sound of Sakusa’s quiet footsteps padding through the entryway of their shared apartment. He rolled over with a groan and checked the clock. 7 am.

_Nice of the bastard to finally come home_ he thought groggily to himself. Even if it was obscenely early for a day off.

Atsumu wasn’t ready to get out of bed just yet, and was instead content with the knowledge that Kyoomi _had_ finally come back to their apartment after their latest fight. He couldn’t even remember what this one was about anymore, just more angry words thrown carelessly at each other like shards of glass.

Atsumu threw an arm over his eyes. When had they gotten like this? Sure, they’d never been a perfect couple, but they _had_ been happy. For years Atsumu basked in the warmth of Kiyoomi’s steadfast presence, content with being at his side. Sure, there had been some arguments, but every couple had them, even Rin and Samu. Kiyoomi and Atsumu just had the particular talent of hitting where it hurt, saying things that they didn’t _entirely_ not mean.

But it was fine, they could fix this. Omi was home.

Rolling back over, Atsumu looked at the small plant sitting in the windowsill. It had begun to wilt, desperately craving attention that it had not received for the past several days. Atsumu moved to get out of bed - Omi would kill him if he killed even one of his many houseplants. He had just reached for the watering can when his senses finally registered that he was no longer hearing the sounds of Kiyoomi moving throughout the room, preparing breakfast as he normally would; he was hearing instead the muffled _thunk, thunk_ of items being placed into boxes.

Heart beating rapidly, already guessing what his mind refused to acknowledge, Atsumu turned from the near-dead plant towards to the door connecting the bedroom to the main living area. He paused with a hand on the handle, traitorous heart flittering like a bird’s as he steeled himself for what a part of him had already guessed was occurring outside.

But he could still be wrong.

(He wasn’t wrong.)

Atsumu opened the door, and stood there dumbly as he took in the scene before him.

Sakusa, going through his belongings like he was choosing between items at a grocery store, sorting them into a box already half full or being thrown into a trash bag marked “donation”.

It was as if the floor had been ripped from under him, the earth fracturing beneath his feet. This couldn’t be what it looked like.

(It was exactly what it looked like.)

Damning his voice for already breaking, Atsumu choked out “What are you doing?”

Sakusa didn’t even bother to look up from his work, tossing a sweatshirt into the box. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m packing up my things.”

Atsumu couldn’t find the words to reply. There were many things he wanted to say, some of them hurtful, some pleading, but instead all he got out with a whispered “why?”

Sakusa quietly stood up at that and finally turned to face him. Atsumu swore he saw a flicker of sadness, of regret in his partner’s eyes before the shutters that he thought had been opened to him for good were closed tight once again.

“Atsumu, you know why.”

_Say it then._ “Say it.” Atsumu ground out, ignoring the tears that had begun to form.

Sakusa closed his eyes, inhaling deep and letting out a soft exhale before opening them.

“I’m moving out.”

The earth shattered into a million pieces. But all he said:

“Ok.”

_Goodbye, my almost lover. Goodbye, my hopeless dream._

_I’m trying not to think about you, can’t you just let me be…_

They worked in silence for hours, slowly erasing any evidence of Sakusa’s presence from the one bedroom apartment the two had called home.

A younger version of Atsumu was screaming at him on the inside, yelling at him to fight, begging at him to _stop, what are you DOING, you can’t give up;_ but Atsumu stayed silent as he continued to help Sakusa sort his belongings.

So many words were fighting to get out, but he caged them all in his heart, trapping them with the memories he would soon wish to forget.

The sky was black when the pair had finished, nearing midnight, and Atsumu didn’t even recognize his own home anymore. It was as if he were living with a stranger, or only a piece of himself remained.

Sakusa gathered up the last bag of belongings and stood on the threshold of what had once been their home and looked at Atsumu one last time. Atsumu knew this was his last chance to say something, but the words never came.

Fireworks were exploding in the background celebrating the new year, but to Atsumu they just felt like the final gunshots to his heart as Sakusa turned and walked away, never looking back.

_So long, my luckless romance. My back is turned on you._

_Shoulda known you’d bring me heartache - almost lovers always do._

**January 1, 2024**

Atsumu was sitting at a bar in Osaka nursing a beer, surrounded by his junior teammates.

_Damn, how did I become the old one of the group_ he thought to himself, as the younger members of the Jackals were cheering in the new year with shots and merriment. Fireworks were still screaming in the night air; everyone in Japan seemed to be out enjoying the excitement of bringing in the new year.

One of the rookies cheered as he began waving his phone in the air, yelling about the roster for this year’s Olympic team having just been announced.

Atsumu received many claps on the back, being congratulated for being on the starting roster once again. One of his teammates, a recent Itachiyama grad, gasped with excitement as he looked at the full roster.

“Look at that, Sakusa Kiyoomi is on the team as well! He played for the Jackals too, right? Atsumu, did you know him?”

Even two years later, his heart still gave a painful half-hearted throb at the mention of his name.

Atsumu thought back to how, two years prior, he was curled up on the edge of the river drowning in tears as shredded memories floated away. He thought back to how he forced back the hollowness that had taken root in his heart, the smile he plastered on his face that could never quite reach his eyes.

Swallowing his drink, Atsumu only said “Yeah. Yeah, I knew him.”

He willed himself to let go, and forget about promises made and broken. He willed himself to accept that he had become nothing more than an almost lover.

**Author's Note:**

> This song shuffled onto my phone for the first time since like 2010 and slapped me across the face and screamed SAKUATSU!
> 
> If any of you read this, thank you for reading my first fic! I hope you enjoyed it, or it at least made you feel something! 
> 
> Follow me on @artjaybird on twitter for more haikyuu nonsense :)


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